


Sleep in the Dust (or The Man Who Lived)

by afterbaedeker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE (Epilogue what Epilogue), F/M, HP: EWE, Post - Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterbaedeker/pseuds/afterbaedeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione never saw Teddy uncover a small, featureless stone. She never saw the stone glow in his hands or his eyes squeeze shut as he thought his childish thoughts. She certainly never imagined that the will of a small child and the pull of ancient magic would bring Remus Lupin back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I - August 1999

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don’t profess to have any rights to the _Harry Potter_ franchise nor profit from the following.
> 
> Written for the 2008 Hermione Smut Exchange. I chose firefly_124’s prompt: “resurrection leads to romance, but there's some angst about those who couldn't be saved”.

  
**Part I - August 1999**

_"Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake; some to everlasting life; others to shame and everlasting contempt."_

Daniel 12:2

(i)

Ron bounded down the stairs, his long legs skipping every second step as he raced to the bottom. He scooped up little Teddy Lupin, who was tottering from the unused umbrella stand to the base of the stairwell bannister, with a playful swoop. Hermione hurried out of the Black library in search of Teddy only to have Ron thrust him toward her.

"There you go," Ron told Hermione, in what he imagined was a helpful manner. "All yours."

"Where are you going?"

"C'mon, Hermione," he said disbelievingly. He indicated his Quidditch robes as though her sight may compensate for her denseness.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione complained, "you said you'd take Teddy today." She held out the uncomplaining toddler to her uncooperative ex-boyfriend.

"That was before the Cannons called me up for training, wasn't it?" Ron did his best to ignore Teddy, but his chubby little legs swinging between them and his hands grabbing at Ron's robes made it difficult.

"This is so typical!" Hermione snapped.

"Come off it."

"You and Harry always think what you're doing takes precedence over me."

"That's not fair!" Ron blustered. "I can't take a baby to Quidditch training--"

"But I can take him with me researching on-site?" Hermione cut short Ron's worn refrain.

"Yes. Or you can do it some other time. The Cannons aren't as accommodating."

Hermione shook her head in obvious annoyance. She rested Teddy on her hip now that it was apparent Ron was not going to take the child from her outstretched arms.

"Look," Ron attempted a conciliatory tone. "Andy will be back in a month and things will be back to normal." 

He squeezed Hermione's shoulder in a misguided gesture of mateship and ruffled Teddy's turquoise hair. He hastily gathered his broom and kit which he had stored at the end the hallway before leaving Grimmauld Place with a miscalculated _"Wish me luck!"_ called out as the door clicked shut behind him.

With a bounce of her hip, Hermione repositioned Teddy up against her waist and mouthed a bitter _'luck'_ at the closed door. 

(ii)

Hoisting her backpack laden with various texts and tools for her sample gathering upon her shoulders, Hermione glanced down to see Teddy mimicking her movements. He struggled with his small purple satchel. Kneeling before the small boy she slid the loops of the bag along his arms before tugging the straps so it was secured snugly to his little frame.

"Are you ready for an adventure?"

Teddy babbled enthusiastically in his child's tongue, occasionally slipping in a word Hermione understood.

"Ah!" Hermione exclaimed, having deciphered the word 'walk'. "We'll Apparate to Hogwarts--" she made a popping sound to describe Apparating, much to Teddy's delight, "--and then walk in the Forest."

She picked Teddy up and holding him safely in her arms Disapparated from the front porch of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

*

Hand in hand Hermione and Teddy walked through the Forbidden Forest, sunlight streaking their faces as they made their way to a copse of fyrscild trees. She drew her wand from her sleeve to turn in a small arc, creating a containing charm about Teddy. Passing without obstruction through her spell work, she unzipped Teddy's bag to retrieve his favourite tennis ball, nearly worn with use. Teddy nodded approvingly at Hermione, taking the ball from her to toss at the magical barrier about him, his serious little face uncannily reminiscent of his father's. She brushed a kiss upon his brow before setting herself to the task of extracting resin from the fyrscild. 

Contrary to what Ron supposed, Hermione did not have the luxury of postponing this endeavour. Hermione was damned if she were to let the first decent lead in her efforts to counter the memory charm she used on her parents go cold simply because her best friends were arses.

Pushing those unhelpful thoughts from her mind, Hermione began to slice layers of smooth, paper-thin bark away from the trunk of the tree until the pale flesh of the fyrscild was exposed. With small deliberate incisions, she carved a trio of runes no larger than the size of Teddy's hand into the prepared surface before her: rose coloured sap beaded atop the rune shaped wounds. Hermione stored away her scalpel and the bark of the tree, and then with a flick and several complicated swishes of her wand she cast an extraction charm. Purple plumes of mist appeared about the carvings which Hermione recognised as the sap rematerialising in its magically altered form. With unbroken concentration she charmed the mist into a pewter vial and sealed it closed.

Hermione beamed at her handiwork, the only witness to her obvious relief the scarred fyrscild. She pressed her palm against the tree trunk healing the gouges until it bore a resemblance no more sinister than that of ink-stained parchment.

Distracted by the complexities of the magic she was wielding, Hermione never saw Teddy uncover a small, featureless stone. Never saw the stone glow in his hands or his eyes squeeze shut as he thought his childish thoughts. Never saw him discard the stone because it no longer pulsed with warmth and was as uninteresting as the carpet of leaves he had tired of kicking.

Rather, the deceptively ordinary sight that greeted Hermione as she released Teddy from his confinement was of a boy with a ball in one hand and his backpack in the other. He bounded eagerly to Hermione, delighted to once more have the attention of his obliging companion.

"I did it!" 

Hermione picked him up and twirled in a giddy making circle. Teddy giggled boisterously as Hermione continued to spin and laugh, heedless of the commotion she caused. Slowing to a stop, she clutched Teddy to her in a fierce hug. When she looked at his smiling face her eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

"Teddy--," she stopped, having caught herself in a confessional mood. 

She would not share half-formed recriminations of desperate wartime measures with a child. Whatever fragments of remorse for action and inaction that flashed in Hermione's mind were left resolutely unsaid as the good sense she was infamous for returned to her. She placed Teddy back on the ground.

"I love you, Teddy."

"Love Her."

Teddy's declaration elicited from Hermione a smile borne of genuine delight. 

"I believe I promised you a walk," Hermione reminded her attentive charge, who clapped his hands delightedly at the suggestion. 

Hand in hand once more they set forth on their path to the gates of Hogwarts.

(iii)

When Remus Lupin died it was with a bang. As anyone on the receiving end of _Avada Kedavra_ , in that fraction of a second before its fatal impact can attest, there is no greater bang than that searing spell snuffing out your life.

When Remus was reborn it was with a whimper, contrary to Eliot's aphoristic verse.

He lay sprawled atop his grave, looking uncannily as though the earth had simply tired of his company and spat him back into the living. The moist dirt beneath him had been churned, blades of overgrown grass were strewn, his gravestone was upended - all a result of his unceremonious ejection from the Underworld.

He stood unsteadily like a foal attempting to stand on its own ungainly limbs for the first time. Looking down at his gravestone he created the surreal image of a man dressed in his wrinkled burial suit gazing at the memorial of his life.

Remus John Lupin  
10 March 1960 - 2 May 1998  
Loving husband of Nymphadora  
& father of Teddy

Inexplicably Remus was filled with a victorious warmth as he read the words of his gravestone. For if he had been granted a funeral; wretched werewolf that he was, if those that were left behind were able to engrave those simple words, they had won.

The joyous feeling was short lived once he became aware of the plot adjacent to his former resting place.

__

Tonks.

Her name etched in cold stone was a monument to all the ways he had failed her. And he had failed her. A tangle of imagined and remembered failings twisted in his gut. Remus staggered away, the sight and the feelings it provoked too much for him to bear.

He groped his way through the stillness of the afternoon, past the myriad of names. So many names. He broke into a sprint at Fred Weasley's grave, running desperately from the catalogue of casualties that war had wrought.

He halted only once he had reached his best friend. _Sirius._ His grave drearily undisturbed. Remus dropped to his knees: dirt, dry grass and that accursed veil separating them once more. Adrenaline and logic coursed through Remus' veins, the rush as unexpected as it was unwelcome. He cried brokenly, a sight that was terrible and pitiful to behold. He cried for all that had been lost. He cried because of the injustice of it all. He cried because he was alone, again, and he could not fathom how he could survive the unimaginable pain of living.

Long moments passed, stretching into the early evening. Remus's knees ached from the cold that crept from the ground and into his bones. The chill of the air cut through his suit, his reborn flesh flinching in reaction.

With the resolve of a man resigned to his unwanted fortune he got to his feet. He shut his eyes and thought of the only place that made sense to him: _Hogwarts_.

(iv)

Remus strode unthinkingly from the gates that stalled his Apparition to the castle that loomed large in the distance. He moved unimpeded through the deserted hallways, past empty classrooms and up moving stairways. His mindless travels came to a halt when Minerva McGonagall advanced on him; a flurry of tartan robes and fury.

She cast _Expecto Patronum_ down the corridor, her Patronus - a sleek silver leopard - bursting from her wand and barrelling toward Remus.

"I'm not a Dementor!" Remus shouted, alarmed as the Patronus charged straight though him. The sensation was odd, but Remus coolly thought that it was no stranger than the rest of his day.

"Minerva, what's hap--", Remus' words froze as the formidable Headmistress petrified him with a well-aimed _Petrificus Totalus_. She shot an _Incarcerous_ at Remus' prone form for good measure.

Remus fell side first, onto the distressingly hard flagstones. He was acutely thankful that his poor shoulder bore the brunt of his ignoble fall as he doubted his skull could have survived that crunching impact nearly so well.

With unnerving determination Minerva cast a series of confounding revealing spells, each more exacting than the last, until she had exhausted her extensive repertoire.

She levitated him to her office, his head and feet knocking the banister that ran the length of the winding staircase none too gently as they snaked upwards. With a flick of her wrist he spun so he was suspended vertically in midair and drifted to the centre of the room. 

She moved behind her desk to remove a vial of Veritaserum. Wordlessly, she modified the spells that confined her captive so his head was free of the effects of Petrificus Totalus. Without prompting he opened his mouth, unsurprised at the bitterness of the three drops that anointed his tongue.

Without preamble Minerva began her interrogation, continuing until she was convinced the man before her was indeed Remus Lupin and that he had no idea how or why he was alive. With a brusque _Finite Incantum_ Remus regained the use of his limbs and regretfully the feeling in his injured arm. He chanced a look at Minerva, hoping she could provide some insight into what was happening to him. Minerva scolded herself that she could have mistaken the earnest man before her as anyone other than the Remus Lupin she had known since he was eleven. She supposed war had hardened all those that survived and she had not been especially soft to start with.

"You dear, sweet man," Minerva apologised. She gathered him in her arms in a tight hug that Remus returned as best he could.

"I don't understand what's happening."

"Nor do I," Minerva admitted plainly. "But it is, and that shall simply have to suffice for now."

Remus nodded.

The lofty voice of Albus Dumbledore's portrait piped up: "The poor boy's wincing, my dear, you best loosen your hold."

Remus grinned apologetically as he rubbed his sore arm. Realising he had been injured by her earlier, Minerva performed a very thorough healing charm that soothed his ailments.

She summoned tea and sandwiches and between them Minerva and Albus relayed to Remus the particulars of the slowly healing world he had returned to.

*

Time ebbed before surging forth, word of Remus' fraught return having been sent to Hermione, Harry and Ron. Their arrival was suitably calamitous. The trio barged into the Headmistress' Office via her temporarily open floo network a tangle of limbs and cacophonous questions. 

"What's going on, Professor?"

"What do you mean Remus is alive?"

"Headmistress, is it true?"

"Children!" Albus boomed from his portrait. "Children, please."

But Albus' voice was lost like waves in the sea, as Harry caught sight of Remus and rushed to him. Harry threw his arms around Remus with the open abandon that marked his every honest and immediate reaction. Hermione was quick to follow Harry's lead, having received Minerva's nod that all was well, and joined the two men in their embrace. It was not until Harry and Hermione broke from Remus that it became apparent that Ron had refrained from the group. Ron stood apart from their reunion, his arms full with Teddy who was nestled drowsily against him.

"Remus..." Minerva began as she nudged Ron toward Remus. No introductory remarks or further prompting were necessary. Ron handed over the sleepy bundle of child. 

"My boy," Remus breathed in wonderment. Teddy snuggled into the new and oddly familiar warmth of his father's chest. "My boy."


	2. Part 2 - September 1999

  
**Part 2 - September 1999**

_"It is not more surprising to be born twice than once; everything in nature is resurrection."_

Voltaire

(i)

The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was alive with activity. Every seat at the magically elongated table was filled and still more continued to arrive and occupy the room. Arthur and Molly fussed over their granddaughter Victoire at one end of the table. Bill and Fleur sat either side of them, looking proudly on as Victoire gurgled rapturously at being bounced on Arthur's knee. Further along the table Luna sat between George and Neville engaging them both enthusiastically with talk of her latest journalistic endeavours. Ginny sat opposite them, pressing Andy for details of her trip. Percy and Ron claimed the last of the chairs, their bickering escalating.

Ron was particularly grateful when his former Head of House arrived as it afforded him the opportunity to escape Percy's lecture on the seemingly endless merits of Ministry work and the self-indulgence of professional sport. The superficiality of his gallantry was not lost on Minerva, but she gratefully accepted his seat all the same. Ron moved toward Harry and Hermione who were idling by the sink.

"I think that's everyone," Hermione whispered to the boys.

Harry paled. "Do you think this is the best way to tell them?"

Ron shrugged, deferring the question to Hermione.

"Well it's a bit late to do things differently now," Hermione scoffed.

"Right." Harry scrounged up some of his vaulted Gryffindor courage, bracing himself to address the group assembled at his invitation.

"Ah, thanks for coming." Harry faced the table, buoyed by the presence of Hermione and Ron either side of him. "I've got some news, and, well, I thought an Order meeting would be best."

"It's not anything to with you-know-who is it, Harry?" asked Arthur.

"No," Harry rushed to reassure his friends. "I, ah, that is, ah..."

"Remus is back," Hermione blurted out, unable to allow Harry to struggle any further.

Questions sprang forth from all directions, voices overlapped until they formed a single unintelligible wall of noise indecipherable to those that held the answers.

Rapping her wand against the tabletop Minerva brought to group to order.

"Remus came to Hogwarts nearly three weeks ago. I assure you Remus Lupin is very much alive."

The barrage of questions began again.

"Where is he?" asked Andy.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Molly wanted to know.

"How can you be sure?" wondered Arthur.

"Has anyone else returned?" Luna voiced the question that loomed large in the room.

Harry made his way around the table, past Bill, Ginny, Andy and Minerva, maneuvering himself toward the door.

"We wanted to tell you all, once Andy was back." Harry smiled crookedly at Andy. "It's hard to explain. You'll just know like we do." He gestured toward Ron and Hermione still by the sink and Minerva who nodded encouragingly. "It's really Remus. I'll get him and then you'll see."

With that strange assurance Harry left to retrieve Remus unaware that his failure to dismiss the notion that others may have returned buzzed and burned in the minds of those sitting in his kitchen.

*

Harry led Remus to the gathered group with an eagerness Remus did not share. Remus stood hesitantly on the threshold of the kitchen, preparing himself for the accusatory looks he dreaded.

Instead he found open faces, expectant with buried hopes surfacing insensibly. He hated that they wrongly thought that others they had loved would return. That he would be the one to dash those thoughts. He hated that they would blame him. He wished that he were strong enough to rebuke that penance, instead he believed it was deserved.

Remus was unsure of what to say. How could he assuage their anxieties as to his identity? How could he placate their disappointment when they realised it was he alone who had returned?

He would not be joined by Fred Weasley whose mischievous grin and infectious _joie de vivre_ gladdened the hearts of his family.

Luna's long dead mother had not returned and would not tell her daughter all the wondrous stories she had dreamed of telling.

Albus was not going to burst into the kitchen and congratulate them on their victory.

James and Lily and Sirius were gone when they should have been here with Harry, here with him.

Ted Tonks would not amble to his wife's side, he would not beguile Arthur with Muggle pleasantries, and he would not be accompanied by his daughter.

And Dora, she would not bound into the kitchen knocking over the ill-placed coat rack, she would not morph her face into countless different guises until everyone ached from laughter, she would not hold her child in her arms and be his mother once more.

No, he was all they would receive. Receive both in the sense of being presented with something and something to be suffered. Remus thought that tension neatly encapsulated his revivification. He bore this inadequacy personally; it gnawed at him, nibbling away at his very self.

After a period of indeterminable internal conflict, that in actuality lasted only moments, he sat at the head of the table in a chair Minerva transfigured from a spoon. He told them of his resurrection, his return to Hogwarts and reunion with his son in economic language unadorned with emotion. The disgust, the despair, the disappointment he had expected to roil forth failed to surface. 

"You're really you," said Luna.

"I'm really me."

"That's nice." Luna settled back into her chair, content.

Remus' forehead furrowed indicating his general bemusement. No one else however was mystified in the slightest by Luna's reaction. It appeared that they received him in the true sense of the word, in welcome. They welcomed Remus back amongst them, back into their lives.

The ease with which they embraced his return was overwhelming. He stayed until he thought he might sink into their kindness and never resurface. 

He excused himself with the convenient pretence of checking on Teddy. 

He left the room loud with talk of his resurrection, never noticing Hermione's silent appraisal of his departure.

(ii)

Hermione slipped almost soundlessly into the room she had transformed for Teddy. It has been a dusty, nondescript space nestled between Sirius and Regulus' adolescent bedrooms, which were shrine-like in their stagnancy.

She had Scourgified the room until it bore no trace of musty disuse. With some creative Transfiguration she had transformed the abandoned room into one suitable for a small boy.

Hermione watched Remus stand guard over his son. He looked like a dragon keeper, keeping the plywood painted Hungarian Horntail that decorated the side of Teddy's cot, at bay.

"You left in a great hurry."

Remus turned to face his unexpected company, so lost in his own thoughts his preternatural sense of hearing had failed him.

"They've all left," she said. "Not Harry and Ron of course..."

"I'm sorry--" he began to apologise.

"Don't be sorry," Hermione interrupted. "Be Remus! Be confused or angry or sad or a hundred other things, but don't you dare be sorry."

"What do you expect me to say?"

"Say anything, as long you aren't as pitifully censored as you were downstairs."

Her audacity was the flint needed to spark Remus into unguarded speech.

"Anything?" His voice was soft, measured. "Did you know it's been nineteen days since my," he paused before saying that final, distasteful word, " _resurrection_?"

Hermione shook her head in a barely perceptible indication that she did not know.

"Nineteen days with Teddy. I had twenty last time. Twenty days of thinking 'this might be the last time I see him', 'today might be the day I die', until, inevitably, I did. And now I count every day wondering if I'll have as long as before."

"When tomorrow comes and you're still here, what then?" she asked. "And the day after that, when you've had one more day than before? When will you stop counting?"

"I'm not sure I will."

Her exasperation was palpable.

"What will it take for you to believe what Albus and Minerva have told you? You're back and it's time you acted like you believed it."

"How would you have me act?"

"Maybe like you weren't counting down the days until you leave again. That'd be a start. You're not Peter Pan and to die is not an awfully big adventure."

"You speak from your extensive experience of death?"

"I speak from my experience of living. My second-hand knowledge of dying, of what it's like to be left behind, that means nothing?"

"Of course not." 

She was wearing down his foolish defences, and he was contrite.

"Then give me some credit. I can see you're not thanking your lucky stars to be back."

"You expect me to be grateful to be back where I fear and I doubt and I hurt?"

"That's all part of being alive. Why can't you see your being back doesn't make you beholden to anyone?"

"Because I feel the absence of everyone who should have been in that kitchen and I'm suffocated by how indebted I am to them, to their memory."

Hermione crossed the room, closing the distance between them. She looked down at Teddy sweetly sleeping, his tiny hands holding onto his owl shaped pillow, before searching Remus' face for the man she remembered.

"You don't owe anything to anyone," she said with unflinching vehemence. "Your being back is a gift, it's..." she searched for the right words to make Remus understand. "It's magic pure and simple. And like magic if you try and understand the why of it, try and delve deeper than the elemental and lose the logical you'll go mad."

She gripped his large hands, her fingers wrapping around his palms. He squeezed her small hands, the first indication Hermione had that he was finally hearing her, that maybe he was not so lost she could not find him beneath the layers of guilt and remorse that hid him from her gaze.

(iii)

"Alright," Harry called out over Godric and the Gryffindor's latest single. "All-, oh!" Harry abruptly stopped raising his voice as Ginny reduced the volume of the wizarding wireless. He mouthed a silent 'thanks' to his girlfriend. 

"Right then, it's time for Hermione to open her presents."

"Don't forget the cake!" added Ron.

"We're not likely to forget about food with you here to remind us," griped George. 

Neville and Charlie laughed at the charge while Ron's ears burned pink at the accusation.

Luna and Hermione got up from the lounge to make their way towards the small crowd gathering in the middle of the Black family library.

Remus stood by the bookcase that ran the length of the wall behind Harry and Ginny. Teddy was in his arms once more, providing the boy an advantageous view of the festivities.

Harry grinned at his best friends as Ron and Hermione approached. With a snap of his wand a shoebox sized parcel cracked out of nothingness. 

"Really, you needn't have got me anything. All of you here..." she trailed off beaming at her friends.

Hermione carefully peeled away the homemade wrapping paper; the repeated pattern of Teddy's multi-coloured handprints pleased her more than she could say. Lifting the lid of the cardboard box she saw a collection of envelopes and small books. Her brow creased in incomprehension, her mind yet to figure out what her present was exactly. She pulled out a small maroon book with a gold embossed cover.

"A British passport?" she asked, puzzled.

"A Ministry issued Muggle passport," Ron clarified. Hermione flipped the passport open to the page with her photo and details.

"Why?"

"Look at the rest," urged Harry.

She next removed a beautiful red leather book jacket, or perhaps it was a large wallet - Hermione was unsure.

"Open it," instructed Ginny whose excitement was barely contained.

Inside the document holder was an envelope which Hermione hurried to unseal. It contained a return airfare to Australia. Her eyes widened in awe. She looked to Harry and then to Ron for an explanation.

"We're not complete arses, Hermione," said Ron. "We know you've been working on getting your parents back, and well, we might not be any good at helping you with the charm reversal side of things, but we could get you to them so you can try."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Oh, Ron!" She threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Oi!" protested Ron. "Wait 'til you open the envelope with the Muggle money. That's truly mental."

"C'mere, Harry," Hermione demanded, so she could hug her boys. They had managed to surprise her in the most unexpectedly thoughtful way.

"He's right," laughed Harry, pleased to have made Hermione so happy. "Australian money comes in all these crazy colours: green, gold, blue, red, pink! It's not like pounds at all."

"Nothing like Galleons," added Ron.

Hermione pulled back from the pair. "Well of course it's nothing alike, they're completely different currencies!"

"There's the know-it-all we know and love," Harry teased.

Hermione laughed a watery laugh.

"Thank you." She looked at each of her friends, utterly astonished. "This means the world to me, thank you all."

With a click of his fingers Harry summoned Kreacher, and with the house elf came Hermione's birthday cake. As she blew out the twenty candles that dotted the chocolate cake she wished with all her heart that her counter memory charm was successful.

(iv)

Th-thwack.

Th-thwack-thwack.

Thwack.

"Ugh!" Hermione groaned in bed, squishing her pillow tightly over her head.

THWACK.

It was no use, no matter how firmly she held the pillow and how determinedly she burrowed her head into the bedding, all she could hear were the unmistakable sounds of Harry and Ginny fucking. How the two of them failed to manage a simple silencing spell was beyond her.

She got peevishly out of bed, stepped into her tattered slippers and wrapped her frayed dressing gown about her. Stomping out of her room she cast her own variation of _Silencio_ , the _Mutus_ , at Harry's room. No more would she hear the scrape of bedposts against floorboards, the whack of bed head against shared bedroom wall.

She slipped down the stairs, past Mrs Black's portrait which remained blissfully still, to the ground floor landing. As she padded to the kitchen she was startled to find Remus leaning against the kitchen counter, casually sipping a cup of hot cocoa. He looked sinfully underdressed in his loose sweatpants and tee. It was the expanse of exposed flesh at his ankles that most appealed to Hermione's restrained Victorian sensibilities.

"Couldn't sleep?" he inquired. 

She tore her gaze away from the mesmerising sight of arch pressed against ankle. "Uh, no." 

Remus seemed to consider that as he swallowed a mouthful of liquid chocolate.

"Are they always that loud?"

Hermione choked out a laugh. That was not what she expected Remus to ask.

"Mostly," she confessed.

Remus shook his head. He retrieved a mug from the cupboard, picked up the saucepan from the stovetop and poured out a measure of hot chocolate. Handing it to Hermione he took a seat opposite her at the table.

"And you haven't informed them _Silencio_ is basic manners?"

"Can't say I have."

"Because...?"

"It's a conversation too awkward to contemplate."

"And Ron?"

"Could sleep through an impromptu Quidditch match taking place in the living room. That and he'd rather hand rear spiders than contemplate Ginny having sex."

"How odd," mused Remus.

Hermione shrugged, Ron and his varied peculiarities were of limited concern to her these days.

"So when do you think you'll leave for Australia?" Remus asked, steering the topic away from Harry and Ginny and their vociferous shagging.

"Uh, not for a while yet," Hermione replied. "I've still got some research to do and I really want to perfect the Charm I've devised before I leave."

"If you think I can help in any way, with research, or with practising the reversal Charm, I'd be very happy to." 

"Really?" she asked, astonishment tingeing her voice.

"Yes, really," he assured.

"I'd love to know what you think. It'd mean so much if you could test the soundness of my theory."

"Of course."

"Thank you, Remus." 

Hermione smiled at him: she felt more confident than she had in a long time about attempting to undo the complex magic she had cast upon her parents. 

Remus returned her joyful smile: he felt, for perhaps the first time, that his return might benefit someone, that he had a role to play that no indolent substitute had filled in his absence. 


	3. Part 3 - October 1999 ~ July 2000

  
**Part 3 - October 1999 ~ July 2000**

_"It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again."_

Ralph Waldo Emerson

*

_Hermione,_

_I trust Halcyon finds you well._

_I know you said you'd write, and perhaps you have, but I couldn't wait any longer for the Muggle post._

_Have you located your parents?_

_You must tell me if I can be of any assistance, Remus_

*

_Remus,_

_Halcyon, as you can see, found me. She's a beautiful owl. Very clever - she waited until the bellboy left my room before pecking at the window._

_I hope you know your impatience means you'll receive an utterly superfluous letter soon._

_I've found where my parents are living now, but I haven't seen them yet. I'm not sure what to expect._

_How's Teddy?_

_Hermione_

_p.s. My handwriting is completely put to shame by your penmanship. Don't judge me!_

*

_Hermione,_

_As I'm yet to receive your letter, I'd say my impatience is warranted. I can't say patience is a quality I've ever much desired to possess._

_You can't predict what your parents will be like as Monica and Wendell. It's madness to try._

_Remember what we talked about, and trust in yourself. I've every confidence that you'll succeed._

_Good luck! Remus_

_p.s. it's very sad indeed to see Hogwarts doesn't encourage stricter standards of script from their students. Oh, how times have changed!  
pps Teddy misses you, it seems his every second sentence is about 'Her'._

*

_Remus,_

_Is Halcyon fine to travel the distance from you to me this frequently?_

_As long as you've the virtues of fortitude, justice, prudence and temperance, I suppose I'll let your lack of patience slide._

_Thank you for your reassuring words - it helped me through my momentary wibble. I've been to Mosman (that's the suburb where the Wilkins' live) and will head back soon to do what's necessary._

_I'll write again soon,  
Hermione_

_p.s. times haven't changed that much - we still use quill and ink. Now when we do away with parchment all together then you can talk about change!  
pps I miss Teddy too. Give him a big hug from me, and tell him I'll be home before he knows it!_

*

_Dear Remus,_

_I've arrived in Sydney!_

_The guidebook to Australia that everyone got me for my birthday has been very helpful so far. It's pointed me in the right direction for some lovely places to eat and stay. I hope once I find mum and dad I'll be able to take advantage of the places it suggests to visit._

_The boutique little hotel I'm staying at is in a place called The Rocks. It's strange to think that this is considered an old part of the city when it isn't more than a couple of centuries since convicts constructed the foundations. I sometimes forget just how much history we have back home._

_The weather is amazing. It's probably silly to tell you that, but I've never seen such blue skies and had to tell someone. It's pleasantly warm at the moment but the hotel manager assures me that in the coming weeks it's going to be very hot indeed._

_I've tracked down where the Wilkins' live; it's not far from the city apparently. A train and then a bus and I'll be in their new suburb. I still need to get a street map before I venture out there. Maybe I'll do a bit of reconnaissance, see where they live and then return later to restore their memories. Wow - that sounded pathetic. What I meant to say, or write as the case may be, is I'll plan and then I'll act. There will definitely be acting in the near future._

_Did you and Teddy do anything for Halloween?_

_I'll write again soon to let you know of my progress._

_Hermione_

*

_Hermione,_

_Your letter finally arrived. Not as redundant as you thought, as you wanted to know about Halloween. Harry had a small party where Teddy was a star attraction in his dragon costume. Less stellar was his sugar induced hyperactivity. I must remember to hide my chocolate stores from his explorative reach._

_Ah, you know of Plato's cardinal virtues but not the dynamics of owl post... Allow me to enlighten you. Much like wizards can Apparate, so too can owls in their own remarkable way. Without boring you with the details, the owl knows instinctively where it must go to deliver its message. It flies through temporal and spacial folds with an ease no witch or wizard has been able to manufacture. What seems to us thousands of miles is significantly less, and what would take us hours or days only takes an owl moments. Which is of course to say, Halcyon is absolutely capable of flying from Scotland to Australia without risk of exhaustion._

_I imagine by the time you receive this letter you'll have been back to Mosman and done what you needed to do. I'm thinking of you._

_Remus_

_p.s. Teddy hugs you back (see purple crayon)_

*

_Remus,_

_I've done it!_

_Everything worked exactly how I had hoped._

_Thank you so much for your help in perfecting the charm. I'm not sure what would have happened without your suggestions for the intonation and intention of the charm. A thousand times thank you!_

_I wish I could thank you in person, but a Teddy sized hug in biro will have to suffice, Hermione_

_p.s. nothing is boring about details. Surely you know that._

*

_Hermione, that's excellent news. Very, very well done._

_Your thanks is an undeserved generosity. It was you who had the courage and cleverness to perform the Charm, not I._

_How are your parents adjusting to life as Helena and Malcolm? What are their, and your, plans for returning to Britain?_

_For someone who claims there is nothing boring about details there was an atypical brevity to your last letter._

_Remus_

*

Remus led Teddy by his mitten wrapped hand through the cemetery. Ice crushed underfoot as they made their way to Tonk's graveside.

A bunch of vibrant sunflowers that Remus imagined Andy had brought earlier in the day, rested atop her grave. He knelt down to Teddy's height and handed him a small bouquet of bright pink hibiscuses.

"Teddy, it's mummy's birthday today. She would have been twenty six." He brushed a shock of bright blue hair out of his boy's eyes. "She had hair the colour of these flowers." Teddy looked at the 'Young at Heart' hibiscuses in his hand then back at his father. 

"She loved you very much. She simply didn't get to love you very long." He pressed a kiss atop Teddy's forehead. "Shall we put our flowers with Nanny Andy's?" Teddy nodded.

Remus guided Teddy's hands so the hibiscuses rested against the yellow stalks of the sunflowers. Then they stood, Remus behind Teddy, his hands on Teddy's shoulders. He marvelled briefly at how his son fit so reassuringly in his grasp. He could not begin to imagine how adrift he would be if Teddy was wrenched from him like Tonks was from Andy. It did not bear imagining.

Halcyon soared overhead where she spied Remus high up in the sky. She swooped down in a beautiful arc to where he stood. 

"Hal-see," Teddy cheered, for invariably when the owl appeared, so too did talk of Hermione.

Remus untied Hermione's latest message from Halcyon's leg. Before reading it he found a biscuit in his satchel and, snapping it in half, gave it to Teddy to feed their owl.

*

_Remus,_

_Apologies for the economy of my last message. Mum and dad are (understandably) a bit wary of magic and Halcyon conjures images of a world that they don't understand. Details will be forthcoming once I'm back. I'll be so detailed you'll long for the return of pithiness and rue the day you wondered about my loquaciousness. (I bet you're already rueing! You are aren't you?)_

_Mum and dad are adjusting as well as can be expected I suppose. I think the more time the three of us spend together; the more we'll get back to normal._

_New Year's sounds like it's going to be a pretty big deal in Sydney so I'll definitely be here until then. Mum and dad are practically an advert for retirement in Australia so I'm not sure whether they're particularly keen to come back to England. We'll see._

_What are your plans for Christmas and New Year's?_

_Hermione_

*

_Hermione,_

_Of course your parents are wary. I'm sorry to have been so flippant. As for any regrets and lamentations I may have about your garrulous nature, I will simply suggest you need not confuse comprehensive with verbose._

_Christmas will be at the Burrow, with all Weasleys, Harry, Andy, Teddy and myself expected._

_No plans for New Year's._

_Remus_

*

_Remember what I told you about being sorry! Just be Remus._

_Hermione_

_p.s. I trust you were telling me the truth about owl travel, otherwise I've sent poor Halcyon half way around the world for a couple of lines._

*

_Dear Hermione_

_Happy Christmas! I hope you have a most splendid day with your family and trust you've everything you desire._

_Teddy has drawn a picture of the two of you with Halcyon. At least I imagine that's what he's drawn._

_I've some incredible news to share with you once you return. Christmas came early for me this year..._

_Wishing you much happiness, Remus_

*

_Dear Remus_

_You can't just say "I've got some incredible news" and then not specify what that news is. That's simply not done._

_I did have a splendid day with mum and dad, although it was odd to have a Christmas without snow. As for having everything I desire... I desire to know what your news is. Now preferably._

_Hermione_

_p.s. Merry Christmas  
p.p.s I think it's the three of us and Halcyon in Teddy's drawing. You're the brown swirl, I'm the pink and Teddy's blue._

*

_Happy New Year Hermione!_

_I do hate to disappoint you, but I'm quite adamant that I shan't tell you my news until I can do so in person. If it makes any difference, I haven't told anyone yet so you aren't at any disadvantage being so very far away._

_Teddy and I welcomed the in the new millennium with Minerva and some other members of staff at Hogwarts. Teddy was enraptured by the fireworks. I think he'll enjoy the Weasley's pyrotechnics when he's older._

_Remus_

_p.s. Teddy has drawn a gallery's worth of pictures since you left... I hadn't noticed before that there were three different sorts of swirls. How remiss of me._

*

_Remus,_

_Happy New Year, new decade, new century, and while we're at it, new millennium!_

_You know what's great about New Year's? New year's resolutions! I've heard a very popular resolution is: 'I won't keep secrets from my friends'._

_Hermione_

_p.s. Stop acting like such a bloody first year. It's not like you're pregnant. Unless of course that's another area of Magical knowledge of which I'm completely unversed. You're not are you?_

*

_Hermione,_

_As it's nearly March now I think the time has passed for making resolutions, so sadly your kind suggestion shan't be acted upon. 'Tis a pity, I'm sure you'll agree._

_Behaving like a first year you say? My dear girl, a first year with the news I have wouldn't show my restraint. You'll see._

_It seems Hogwarts needs to expand their curriculum if the brightest witch it had the privilege to teach isn't aware of basic personal development and physical education principles._

_Remus_

_p.s. of course I'm not bloody pregnant!_

*

Messers Longbottom and Potter  
cordially invite  
 **Miss Hermione Granger**  
to an evening of frivolity to celebrate their farewell to teens

Festivities will take place from 8pm 30 July 2000 at 12 Grimmauld Place.

To RSVP tap your wand against this invitation and the rest of your instructions will be revealed.

*

_Remus,_

_I got Harry and Neville's invite today. I've talked it over with mum and dad and I'll return to England for good then. They've decided they're going to stay in Australia. It's funny, even though we'll be separated by thousands of miles, it doesn't feel like goodbye, not really._

_So mark July 30 in your calendar, 'cause I'll be back!_

_Hermione_

_p.s. if you don't tell me your news the instant I return you are going to be confronted with one very irate Hermione Granger. It's not a pretty sight; ask Harry or Ron, should you seek confirmation._

*

Hermione watched Halcyon fly out over the glassy blue sea that masqueraded as her parents' backyard. She returned her attention to the invitation. Curiosity getting the better of her she touched her wand to it. "Yes," she said and was instantly transported by the sickening pull of an unexpected Portkey. She lurched forward past racks of clothes, their garish colours blurring before her.

"A bit of warning would have been nice," she muttered darkly to herself. Reaching a hand out before her, she held onto the counter lined with costume jewelry, in an attempt to steady herself.

Madame Colere, outfitter to the wizarding party going populous, waddled out to greet Hermione, completely unfazed by her unexpected and decidedly haphazard arrival.

"Where am I?" Hermione goggled at the walls of masks and rows of costumes that surrounded her.

"Why dear, you're at Madame Colere's Culturare Emporium."

"Which is where exactly?"

"Oh, we're not _physically_ located anywhere. We're wherever our customers need us to be. Now, which party are you with, dear?" asked the proprietor.

"Potter and Longbottom," she automatically answered, her mind preoccupied with the seeming limitlessness of magic.

Madame Colere nodded as she extracted a slim file from beneath the counter.

"And your name?"

"Hermione Granger."

One gold painted fingernail travelled down a page of names.

"Ah, right this way." Hermione was led to a moderate sized change room toward the back of the shop. "In you go dear," Madame Colere prompted when Hermione made no move to step inside. 

"Why?" Tact and implicit capitulation were not particularly strong traits of Hermione's.

"Because you need to try on your costume," she explained. 

"I didn't realise it was a costume party..."

"Oh yes, a very well organised one at that. The two young men have allocated all their guests a costume based on the theme of Muggle superheroes and villains." 

Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise - _a Muggle costume party?_ She stepped inside the change room, her denim jeans and lightweight beige knit vanished to be immediately replaced with a form fitting black leather cat suit.

"Cat Woman?" Hermione questioned the soundness of her friends' minds.

Madame Colere flicked the curtains away to reveal Hermione in her assigned costume.

"Very fetching," she approved of the ensemble on the young woman, before magically redressing her in the clothes she had arrived in.

Madame Colere packaged the costume for Hermione, then reactivated the Portkey to return Hermione back to her parents' house all in the space of several fuss free moments.

*

_Hermione,_

_Knowing your insatiable curiosity I fear I am too late: beware accepting Harry's invitation! It will activate a Portkey on confirmation of your attendance. Luckily I was with Andy at the time so my immediate and unexpected disappearance didn't leave Teddy abandoned._

_Speaking of whom... Teddy turned two today!_

_But that isn't the only news I have (and no I'm not about to divulge the news): I've got a job - of sorts. I've started tutoring some children on Minerva's recommendation, a little introductory schooling before they start Hogwarts. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed teaching._

_July 30 is marked large and loud on my calendar._

_Remus_

_p.s. I don't doubt the sincerity with which you expressed your displeasure. No confirmation necessary!_

*

Hermione strode into Harry and Neville's party with a confidence that seven months in Australia soaking up the sun, reuniting with her parents and breaking from her tired routine, bolstered. Of course, completely owning the figure she cut in her audacious Cat Woman outfit helped with her confident entry.

She spied Neville looking particularly dashing in a gray suit, the white shirt beneath unbuttoned to the navel to reveal a rippling black latex bodysuit, which was a beautiful homage to _Batman_. He was engrossed in conversation with George who was rather appropriately bedecked in a distressed suit and layers of lurid coloured makeup as The Joker. 

Hermione was about to join them when she saw Neville rest his hand on George's arm, there was something private about the gesture that she felt she best not intrude upon. Luna never noticed Hermione's fleeting dilemma, rushing toward her and catching her in a bone-squeezing hug.

"You look like a cat," Luna commented when she broke away from Hermione, who laughed at the very _Luna-ness_ of her remark.

"That's just as well, because I'm Cat Woman. And you, you're...?"

Hermione failed to place the flared pants, fitted blouse, and flyaway hair.

"I'm _his_ Angel," Luna proudly declared, pointing at Charlie Weasley who was particularly striking in khaki, looking every bit the adventurer Indiana Jones. 

"He just doesn't know it yet," Luna admitted. She drifted toward Doctor Jones who was drinking with Robin Hood and Maid Marion, completely oblivious to Luna's designs. Hermione shook her head in amusement as Luna happily interrupted Bill and Fleur to insinuate herself in Charlie's circle.

She spotted Harry in a similar costume to Neville: he wore a fine cut navy suit over a pale blue dress shirt undone to expose the distinctive blue lycra with bold 'S' insignia known to _Superman_ aficionados the world over. The thin red tie that hung loosely around his neck was an especially nice homage to Clark Kent. Harry had one arm wrapped possessively around Ginny who looked every bit the superhero in her Wonder Woman outfit. Ginny laughed gaily at something said by the man with her and Harry. The man was attired in an elegantly cut charcoal suit and when Hermione caught a glimpse of his side profile she noted he was wearing a tuxedo replete with bow tie. Then the mysterious man turned toward her and she finally registered who Harry and Ginny were talking to: _Remus_. 

Sweet, merciful Merlin, the man _smouldered_. She was drawn to him: he pulsated with an elusive energy that lured her as surely as any _Imperious_ spell could. 

When she arrived at his side Harry and Ginny hugged her, fondly welcoming her home. She answered their prattling chatter in what she hoped passed for coherent conversation, for her attention was reserved for Remus alone. Hermione wondered how they were immune to the undeniable heat that radiated from him. Ron's belated arrival blessedly occasioned Harry and Ginny to take their leave of Hermione and Remus.

Hermione turned to Remus, willing herself to appear the nonpareil of nonchalance. He retrieved a glass of sparkling elf wine from a floating plate that orbited the room and handed it to her. Accepting the gallant gesture, she took a generous sip of the drink, willing herself to be moderately articulate when the power of speech returned to her. Felicitously, Remus spoke first, sparing Hermione the agony of an opening line.

"Stunning costume, Hermione," enthused Remus.

"Thanks." Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. "But you, you look amazing," she gushed.

"Well, they were all out of Peter Pan costumes. This had to do." He smiled self deprecatingly at her incisive indictment from months prior. 

"No, you're much more debonair than that." Hermione returned his uneven smile, much to his relief. "So tell me, who are you supposed to be?"

"It's not obvious?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I'm Bond, James Bond." He posed briefly in a rakish parody of a spy, unaware Hermione found the pretence alarmingly attractive.

"No bad Scottish accent to accompany that introduction?" she queried.

"I'll have you know that Sean Connery isn't the definitive _Bond_."

"Not according to my mother."

"Is that so?" Remus' eyebrows lifted in incredulity.

"It is." Hermione grinned at the ease with which they bantered. 

There was a frisson of something unspoken flaring in their easy silence.

"I can't wait any longer - what's your news?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity which had abated briefly when she struggled under the new and sudden awareness of him.

"If you step outside, I'll show you."

She threaded her arm through the crook of his and accompanied him through the house. He paused at the door that led to the small back garden.

"Would you indulge me by shutting your eyes?" he asked hesitantly.

"Okay," she answered, bemused. She closed her eyes. He took her hands in his and guided her out into the warm summer night.

"Open your eyes." He watched her blink her eyes open, rapidly taking in her surroundings. "What do you see?" 

She scanned the garden for anything amiss. Bewildered, she answered, "I see you."

"But what do you notice when you see me?"

"A man..."

"Nothing else?"

"Remus, what's this about?" 

"You don't see anything different about me?"

Tilting her head to the side she appraised his face. She reached her hands out to smooth the creases at the sides of his eyes. His breath hitched at her touch.

"You don't seem nearly so tired or as sad as I remember."

"I'm not," he breathed.

"But I could tell that from your letters. What is it you had to tell me in person?"

"Look." He tipped her head upwards, the full moon beaming brightly in the sky. Her eyes widened in astonishment as her mind thrilled with the knowledge that Remus was free of his Lycanthropy.

"I'm a man."

She looked at him curiously. "When were you anything else?" 

"I do believe you mean that." 

"Of course I mean it." She looked at him with expressive brown eyes that dared him to question her.

"I've been such a fool," he realised, his voice earnestly disapproving - of what, Hermione could not tell.

She tried to distinguish the separate strains of yearning and expectation in his admission. There was something undeniably hopeful and frustratingly reluctant about his unguarded gaze. Words failed Hermione: she had spoken her mind when he returned; she had written of her hopes and frustrations and successes while abroad; and now she said all she could in light of Remus' news. It was clear to Hermione that it was time for action and not for words.

She threaded her hands through his grey-flecked hair, her guiding touch leading his head lower to hers. She pressed her lips against his. He stifled a whimper at the contact, her lips were so soft, so lovely, he simply stood, bent awkwardly, unmoving for fear of upsetting the brush of her moist kiss against his chapped lips. But then - _but then_ \- she traced her tongue along the dry crease of his lips and layer by layer his needless hesitations flaked away.

He opened himself to her, his mouth following after his mind, enabling her tongue to slip past his mostly even teeth to learn the contours of his mouth. His tongue tangled with hers, sliding in mimicry of his hands which ghosted along her sides. She flicked her tongue against the roof of his mouth. He fisted his hands in her hair. Their mouths captured one another and then released with a playful latching of lips. 

The need for breath finally forced them pantingly apart.

"Would you say my news was best relayed in person?" he asked, his breathing satisfyingly ragged.

She framed his face in her hands, his chin resting as though it were made to fit in the soft warmth of her palms.

"I would," she agreed before proceeding to demonstrate her approval by engaging him again in a searing kiss.


	4. Addendum - 2009

****

Addendum - 2009

****

  


Hermione was roused from her sleep by the warm pads of Remus' fingers travelling the expanse of her thigh. He traced loving patterns upon her flesh, his living canvas stretching from her knee to her hip. She moaned a low, content, half-sigh of a moan when his fingers found their way to her centre and stopped skirting about the soft skin of her hips. She stretched into his touch; her muscles loosening as she languorously lengthened her body. One leg and then the other straightened, her calves protesting before welcoming the movement, her toes pointed daintily skyward then curled into the mattress. Her arms reached out past her head, her shoulders pressed into her sleep crushed pillow, her chest rose and her hips rolled toward the attention of those talented hands at the apex of her thighs. Her body hummed with want for him.

At last she opened her eyes.

"Morning," she sighed. 

Remus smiled adoringly at the woman beneath him. He loved her not-yet-awoken voice which held for him an indefinable beauty.

"Mmm," he hummed his mundane morning reply, more interested in capturing her bottom lip in a consuming kiss. His lips caught hers parted in a smile. He worked his fingers in and out of her cunt: she was wet with need for him. He curled two fingers inside her slick heat, beckoning her with that maddening ministration to abandon all decency and surrender to unsophisticated pleasure. She groaned into the warmth of his mouth. With the barest flick of his thumb against her clitoris she bucked into his palm: dark darts of pleasure burst behind her eyelids.

Remus removed his fingers slowly, the heel of his palm still cupping her sex. He held himself over her, the veins of his arms pronounced as his forearms bore the brunt of his weight. His stomach muscles clenched with the restraint of not entering her. He rocked his cock across the damp slit of her cunt. She gasped. Her hands ran the length of his back before grasping the globes of his arse, kneading his tight flesh in unspoken direction.

He slipped easily, expertly, entirely within her, only to withdraw with protracted patience like an aching adagio when she begged for the swiftness of _allegrissimo_. Oh, but how delicious it was when he thrust into her once more having relinquished his need for measured strokes. 

"I love you," he avowed, his adoration for her plain to hear in his voice. 

She sucked in an unsteady breath as he stilled, withdrew and then plunged deep within her. He held himself in her, atop her, for a shuddering moment.

"And I love you," she returned, soaking up his love and returning it to him anew.

They moved together with increasing urgency, his rapid thrusts met by her rolling hips, their pelvises pressing against each other as a delicious grind of flesh. Her cunt clenched around the full length of his throbbing cock. He stilled, breaking the rocking rhythm, focusing instead on the feel of the head of his cock brushing against the walls of her core. The infinitesimal nudging within her, and the slow steady slapping of his balls outside her combined to bring her to orgasmic heights for a second time. He came with exquisite inelegance, his release culminating in three jerky, streaming, thrusts. 

He rolled aside her sated body, the two of them on their backs, pulses racing and chests heaving with their shared exertions. Happiness was the reflected afterglow of a lover's satisfaction.

Eventually the minutiae of the day ahead edged back into their awareness.

"Can you get the boys up?" Hermione asked.

"I can." Remus kissed his wife tenderly, and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

Hermione admired the view of Remus' glorious arse and the way the muscles of his back tensed as he bent to pick up his jeans from the floor. She admired his body in a surfeit of surprising ways, ways she was sure he knew. Like when he slipped those dirty denim jeans on with no underwear, knowing the thought of his thighs, his arse, his cock encased in nothing but that faded blue material drove her to distraction. He pulled a light black sweater over his head and scrunched the sleeves up past his elbows. 

Hermione watched him pad barefoot to the bedroom door. "I'll just have a quick shower and then I'll be down to breakfast," she called out from their bed. He cast an amused look over his shoulder, a look that said he knew she would in all likelihood snuggle back under the covers for a few more moments sleep, before exiting their bedroom.

Remus knocked on Teddy's bedroom door as he made his way down the hallway. "Up you get, Ted," he called though the closed door. He smiled to himself when he heard his son's sleepy grumble that he was getting up. Remus continued on to the next bedroom, pushing past the slightly open door he went straight to the drawn curtains and pulled aside the red gingham material to let the early morning light flood the room. Little Leo Lupin was sprawled like a starfish upon his bed, his arms and legs radiating in four different directions. Leo looked as though he had wrestled with a Hippogriff in his sleep, his sheets twisted into a heap that hung off the bed to trail onto the floor.

Remus leaned down and brushed a kiss atop Leo's head, his hair a riot of messy chocolate coloured curls that tickled his nose.

"Time to wake up, my boy," he whispered as he gently awoke his son with a squeeze of his shoulder. Eyelids fluttered open to reveal the gold-flecked eyes of his father.

"Good morning," greeted Remus.

"Morning, daddy," Leo sleepily replied. 

*

Walking down the hallway Hermione heard Remus pottering about in the kitchen downstairs, talking animatedly to Leo. She stopped at Teddy's still closed door. She rapped her knuckles softly against the wood, and then gently pushed the door open.

"Ted?" 

He was wearing his favourite denim jeans and black sneakers with a loose grey tee that had a faded motif imprinted on its front. He looked up from his scuffed shoes as Hermione entered his room.

Teddy sat on the edge of his made bed. He had grown in the last six months, his feet for the first time resting flat on the floor when he perched like he was now, no longer did they dangle artlessly. It would be the first of many boyish qualities he would lose to adolescence.

"Mum, I don't want to go Hogwarts," Teddy told Hermione, his brown eyes imploring. "Can't I stay here?"

"Oh, Teddy." Hermione sat down next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You'll love Hogwarts. There's so much to learn..."

"But you and dad can teach me!" He pressed his face into her side, his slim arms encircling her waist in a hug.

"No, we can't," she lightly admonished. "Why don't you tell me what's worrying you?" 

He huffed into the warmth of her chest. 

"WhatifIdon'tmakeanyfriendsandIgetintroublewhenmyhairchangescolourandI'mnotgoodatanything?" His speech was a muffled rush, a style Hermione was luckily well versed in.

"Teddy, you're talented and kind and fun. Of course you'll make friends. Whenever we visit Nan and Pop in Australia you meet new people and you have a great time. So you've nothing to worry about on that front." She rubbed his back in reassuring circles as she spoke. "You won't get in trouble if your hair changes colour. That's something you can't control yet. No teacher or prefect will take house points from you because of it." She looked down at the mop of turquoise hair that nestled against her. "And as for you not being good at anything, that's simply ridiculous. You've been exposed to more Magical theory and experiments than any other First Year I know, so be confident that you'll be _good_ at school. Plus, you've got a knack for intuitive magic, like flying, which your Godfather, who happens to be the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen, constantly tells you. You, my darling boy, are going to be just fine."

Teddy looked up at Hermione, a small smile starting to light up his face.

"You think so?"

"I know so," Hermione promised.

*

The homely smell of baking bread wafted from the oven to the olfactory delight of Hermione and Teddy as they entered the kitchen. Remus had just removed his signature breakfast specialty - homemade chocolate rolled brioche - and begun brushing it with egg yolk before sprinkling sugar over newly sticky surface. Teddy's favourite combination of hazelnut spread and finely diced strawberries were accommodated in small bowls on the table, which Leo placed carefully in front of his big brother.

The scene of domesticity revealed a bustling serenity. There was a simple joy to be had in the breaking of brioche, of its steaming yeasty centre being shared, of a family enjoying a last meal together before Teddy set forth on a new and bold adventure.

Glimpsing the life Remus and Hermione forged together, one could only concur with Spenser, that "there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."

*


End file.
